


Scars

by Lassarina



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lassarina/pseuds/Lassarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auron helps Lulu with her hair, and more.  PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

The scrape of his shoe on the floor alerts her, and she turns quickly, her braids sliding over her bare shoulders in a sensual caress. She is halfway through shaping a spell before she realizes who it is. He sketches a perfunctory bow, the muted light gleaming over scarred skin. Her mouth goes dry.

"I do not wish to interrupt." His voice sends a shiver straight down her spine to settle low and hot, and she blinks to pull her wits back into order. He draws nearer and she can smell him, steel and leather and the soap he favors. He gathers her braids gently in one hand, and trails them deliberately over her skin. Her breath catches in her throat.

She picks up the comb that she let fall when he came in, but he is already unwinding her braids, letting the strands slide through his fingers. The hypnotic tugs as he unravels them raise gooseflesh on her shoulders and arms.

"Cold?" he asks, and she shakes her head, then sighs in relief when he unwinds the coronet of braids atop her head and the weight slides free. He takes the comb from her and starts at the bottom, gently. It used to surprise her that he knew how best to handle this, until she realized that he had been watching her across the campsite at night. He works his way up, working out the little snarls, until his hands slide under the curtain of her hair to knead at the sore points in her neck where she carries its weight.

She leans back into it until the last knot loosens, then turns her head to meet his kiss. Her hands come up to frame his face, the ridge of his scar smooth beneath her touch. She traces it slowly, and he holds as still as stone for her. She pushes aside his coat and unfastens his armor, bending to taste the scars she reveals as she pulls it away. His skin is warm beneath her lips, roughened with hair. She kneads his muscles as he did hers, slow and sensuous, relishing the flex of them beneath her hands. He slides his hands into her hair and then slowly down her back, untying the strings of her corset. She draws a deep breath as it loosens and he pulls it away, letting her breasts spill free. He drops the corset and closes his hands over her breasts, tugging lightly at her nipples. She arches her back and nips at the edge of his scar, and the hoarse sound he makes sends more shivers down her spine.

His lips are warm and firm on the back of her neck when he nuzzles through her hair to kiss her, and she retaliates by sliding her hands thoroughly over his cock through his pants when she reaches for his belt. He continues to stroke her breasts as she unfastens it, but as soon as it comes free in her hands, he lets her go, leaving her breasts throbbing, and takes it from her.

His hands slide down her arms, gently gathering her hands behind her, and she feels the cool slide of leather over her skin when he wraps the belt around her wrists. He pauses, giving her time to object if she wishes, but she is curious. The leather creaks as he draws it tight and fastens it.

Having her arms behind her leaves her somewhat off-balance, but she uses his bent leg as a brace and leans forward to resume her exploration of his scars. He cups her breasts in his hands and drags his thumbnails lightly over her nipples, and she can't help moaning. Magic is awkward without the ability to move, but she has had a lifetime of practice, and she summons just the hint of ice in her mouth, using her tongue to trail it over his skin. He hisses and lifts her upright, setting her back on the bed with her hands still bound behind her. She tugs discreetly against her bindings, but the belt holds fast.

He removes his remaining clothes as she watches, her eyes tracing the pale lines of scars etched across his dark skin. She respects those signs of battles won and lost, finds the contrast between their ridges and his skin endlessly fascinating, and she licks her lips unconsciously, wanting to sense that contrast again.

He steps closer to her and kneels before the bed, his hands braced on either side of her. He presses warm kisses against her collarbone, trailing slowly along it to her breastbone and down. She wraps her legs around his as best she can, the belts of her skirt pressing against his bare skin, and he draws a sharp breath at the cool leather on his skin. Her bare feet touch the back of his thighs and pull him closer. He does not change his pace, slow kisses spiraling over her breasts until his teeth scrape her nipple. She shudders and his hands slide up her back to hold her steady for him. She tries to press up into his mouth and he leans back far enough that she cannot, still barely touching her with the edge of his teeth and the barest hints of his lips and tongue.

Even as he moves to her other breast, his free hand slides down her legs, dipping teasingly into the gaps between her belts, and unfastens the lowest one. He works his way up slowly, spreading the wings of her skirt wider, and she uses the freedom to wrap her legs tighter around him, trying to draw him close enough for what she wants. Heat throbs insistently between her legs, sparking brighter with each slow tug of his teeth or stroke of his tongue. Auron unfastens the last belt, leaving the skirt around her waist but open to the top, and she braces her hands awkwardly on the bed to push herself closer. He pulls back, his mouth leaving her breasts, and she hisses in frustration.

"Not yet," he murmurs, and it's as though he speaks right against the throbbing nerves. She feels the heat rise like a tidal wave and then drop away, leaving her desperately needy for his touch.

He presses his mouth to the line between her stocking and her thigh, his tongue slipping beneath the lace to tease sensitive skin. She pulls again at the belt and finds it just as unyielding. She would give nearly anything to have her hands free so she can guide him into her, feel the stretch of him within her, but she will not ask. That is the power he has left her, and she will hold tight to it.

His hands slip beneath her hips and pull her closer to the edge of the bed, his stubble scraping her skin as he kisses his way up the short distance from her stocking. She arches up to his mouth, wobbling as her arms try to take her weight at the awkward angle, and feels the tip of his tongue barely trace her skin.

She prefers a lighter touch for this, and he provides it, his tongue barely brushing her skin as he slowly circles her entrance and glides up. When his tongue flicks over her, barely a sensation before it is gone, she almost screams. She folds her hands into fists and presses them into the bed to brace herself, lifting her hips toward his mouth, and his hands clasp her hips to hold her still as he barely touches her again. The heat sinks into her like a fire spell and his touch shatters her nerves like thunder. One teasing flicker after another leaves her shuddering, coming apart in his hands, and she sobs when another near-phantom touch leaves her hovering on the edge, but not quite there.

"Had enough?" he murmurs, and his voice thrums through her like a plucked string. She can't get enough air. She wraps her legs tight around his torso and pulls him close, and he laughs, a deep rumble, before he circles her with his tongue and she shatters, screaming. He keeps on, his tongue circling her too intensely, and she struggles to free herself from the belt because it's too much, too fast. His hands press her thighs wide, denying her even that tenuous grip on him, and he uses his tongue relentlessly until the tidal wave sweeps up and crashes over her.

When she can breathe again, he is still holding her against the bed, his mouth hovering a breath away from her. He meets her eyes and his are so dark, so intense, that her breath catches again in her throat.

He rises in a smooth surge of muscles and presses her back on the bed, her arms still trapped beneath her, and she tilts her hips up to meet him as he slides slowly into her. She bites her lip to hold back her moan when he stretches her open, slow and relentless until he is fully within her. He withdraws as slowly and presses forward again, and she wraps her legs tight around his waist to keep him with her. They do not speak again, but move together, the tension coiling tighter until she feels like she will break beneath it. He slips his hand between them, caressing in counterpoint to his movement, and the tension snaps all at once. She arches up into him, crying out, and feels him draw taut above her as she slips into the gentle floating sensation of satiation.

When she comes back to herself, her hands have been unbound and he is gently rubbing the red marks on her wrists with one hand, his other arm curled beneath her to support her head. She turns her head to kiss the scar on his shoulder, and he brushes her hair out of her face, more gently than she might have expected.

He says nothing, only looks intently at her, as though unsure how to ask what he wishes to know. So she smiles, and pushes herself up on one elbow.

"Next time," she says, "I get to use the belt."


End file.
